


Arachnids & Phobias

by whumphoarder



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Graphic Description of wound, Hurt Peter Parker, Infection, Iron Dad, Irondad, Medical Procedures, Necrosis, Spider Bite, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 07:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whumphoarder/pseuds/whumphoarder
Summary: Peter takes a breath as he steps into the lab. “I, uh… I got bit by a spider.”Tony snorts out a laugh. “No shit. That was kind of a defining moment in our relationship.”Peter rolls his eyes. “No, like, another one.”





	Arachnids & Phobias

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this story contains graphic description of an infected wound. If that makes you squeamish, you might want to read something else.

There are three quick knocks on the workshop door. Tony glances up from the wires he’s been soldering to see Peter awkwardly standing in the doorway. Given it’s a Tuesday, Tony hasn’t been expecting him, but Peter’s been known to occasionally drop by the tower following patrols so it’s not completely without precedent.

“What’s up, kid?” Tony greets.

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck. “Uh, Mr. Stark? I think I might need some help.”

Tony shifts his gaze back down to the wires and continues his work. “Got another trig problem you’re stuck on?” he guesses.

“No, not today.” Peter takes a breath as he steps into the lab. “I, uh… I got bit by a spider.”

Tony snorts out a laugh. “No shit. That was kind of a defining moment in our relationship.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “No, like, another one. A few days ago.”

Tony frowns and sets down the tools so he can focus on the kid. “Okay… we’ll just suspend the irony of that for a minute.” He gestures to the stool next to him. “What happened?”

Peter shuffles the rest of the way into the lab and sits down on the stool. “I dunno, I was helping May get some boxes out from the crawl space so she could decorate the apartment and I felt something crawling up my arm so I looked down and there was this little brown spider on me. I tried to shake him off but he bit me. But it didn’t hurt very much or anything so I thought it was fine.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t fine,” Tony ventures.

Peter shrugs. “I mean, it kinda hurt, but not really, and then it kinda itched and I felt a little sick, but y'know, May had also made her turkey meatloaf for dinner so it was 50-50 on that one”—Tony snorts out a laugh, remembering the walnut date loaf—“and I felt better by the next day so I didn’t say anything. But now…” He starts rolling up his hoodie sleeve.

Tony narrows his eyes and leans forward to watch as the limb is carefully uncovered. But as Peter gets halfway to the elbow and Tony catches a glimpse of what this little meeting is about, he recoils in shock.

There’s a black, nickel-sized wound in the skin of Peter’s forearm, the edges red and weeping pus. It dips into the skin and looks almost like a burn mark except the smell is one of rotting flesh and Tony knows something is very, very wrong.

“Jesus!” Tony exclaims. He immediately squeezes shut his eyes and presses his knuckles to his lips to suppress a gag. “What the hell, kid?!”

“Yeah, so...” Peter mumbles in conclusion, “I think it might be infected or something.”

“There’s a _hole_ in your arm,” Tony states. He opens his eyes again to take another look and immediately has to turn his head away as another gag threatens to bring up his lunch. “Shit…” he breathes out. “Can you cover that back up?”

“Oh. Um, okay.” Peter sounds puzzled at this response, but complies anyway.

Tony looks back to see the kid has rolled his sleeve back down. A shudder runs through Tony’s body. “FRIDAY, have Bruce meet us in medical,” he addresses the AI.

“Affirmative, boss,” she replies.

Tony shudders again before his neck jerks to the side.

Peter seems at a loss. “Uh, Mr. Stark…? Are you okay?”

“Look, we all have our thing, alright?” Tony retorts as he stands up. “You’re not big on needles, Rhodey shits himself when he sees clowns, and I’m not a fan of flesh-eating necrotic skin lesions.” His neck jerks to the side again, like his brain is trying to dislodge the images with some kind of mental Heimlich maneuver.

Peter instantly latches onto the most important part of that comment: “Wait, Colonel Rhodes is afraid of clowns?”

“Forget I said that,” Tony quickly replies. “That’s privileged information. Classified.”

“Said what?” Peter asks innocently.

“Exactly.” Tony nudges Peter to his feet. “Now start walking, kid.” He pokes Peter’s back to get him moving. “Medbay. ASAP.”

**X**

Fifteen minutes later, Peter is sitting on a bed in the infirmary, his legs swinging nervously. Bruce is carefully analyzing the data from the scans he’s just run on the bite. Tony is standing at the complete other end of the room, arms crossed over his chest, trying to keep his disgust off his face.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Tony asks as casually as he can manage.

Bruce sets down the Starkpad and peers closer at the wound itself. “Based on Peter’s description, it sounds like a brown recluse, but they’re not too common up in the northeastern states. Could be a yellow sac spider.”

“No, the spider was brown,” Peter argues.

“The name is a misnomer—only a small percentage of them are yellow,” Bruce says. “But then again, they’re not known to cause necrosis like this…” He pauses thoughtfully. “I wonder if this is somehow related to your healing factor.”

Peter looks curious. “How?”

“Well, you heal more quickly than most people because your cells regenerate at an accelerated rate,” he explains. “But if a toxin is introduced to your system that’s killing off cells, maybe that’s being accelerated too.”

“Whoa.” Peter grins. “That’s pretty sick.”

“Yeah, this is all fascinating,” Tony cuts in, “but how about we skip to the part where you fix it? Is there some kind of antivenom we need to get a hold of or what?”

“The venom will have been metabolised already, so that’s not the issue here. We just have to address the necrosis.”

“And how do we do that exactly?” Tony demands.

“We’ll have to remove the affected tissue,” Bruce says simply.

Peter immediately pales. “What do you mean by ‘remove’?”

Bruce gives Peter an apologetic look. “I mean, we have to cut that area of your skin away so that the damage doesn’t spread any further.”

“Jesus,” Tony mutters.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?” Peter says quickly, shooting his mentor a terrified look. “You remember how I don’t like needles? That uh, that extends to scalpels as well.”

Tony sighs and runs a hand over his face—this was not how he’d planned his day to go. “Can we put him under for it?”

Bruce shakes his head solemnly. “We still don’t have a good general anesthesia that will work for his metabolism. I think the best we’re gonna get is local numbing.”

Peter swallows hard. He’s starting to look sick. “What if we just wait and see if my healing factor will kick in and take care of it?”

“I think we’re past that point, Peter,” Bruce says with a sympathetic smile. “If this were India, I might suggest maggots, but—”

“Nope,” Tony declares, cutting Bruce off mid-sentence. “Absolutely not. Maggots in my building is where I draw the line.”

**X**

They eventually talk Peter into the surgical method, but only after explaining it would take too long to procure medical grade maggots (turns out the kid is enthralled by the idea of larval therapy).

“You’re doing great, Peter—it’ll be over before you know it,” Bruce praises as he cuts the black tissue from the wound.

Peter’s been gritting his teeth and whimpering the entire time, but Tony knows it’s more out of fear than actual pain. The local anesthesia seems to be doing its job.

“Hey, have I ever told you about the time when we were at MIT and Rhodey and I won free tickets to the circus?” Tony asks casually. “And about the wrath of Ringo the clown?”

Despite his situation, Peter lets out a half-laugh. “Don’t think so.”

The whole procedure takes no more than twenty minutes, with Tony animatedly sharing stories to keep Peter’s (and his own, if he’s being honest) mind distracted. It’s not long before the kid is giggling along, the scalpel nearly forgotten.

Once the wound is cleaned and dressed, Peter’s healing factor takes care of the rest. The hole is gone by the next day. There’s a bit of a scar, but no need for skin grafting, which had been one of Bruce’s concerns.

(Rhodey is unclear why pictures of clowns suddenly start appearing around the tower.)

**Author's Note:**

> I almost didn't post this story because it got away from me and ended up being a lot grosser than I had intended it, but then I was like... well what else am I gonna do with it? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
